The Happy Days That Await Us
by AliceUnknown
Summary: But for now, they're stuck in a cold, rotten underground cell, while Soul can only anticipate a future in which they spend the rest of their lives together, happy.


….

**Beware**, ahead there be massive amounts of fluff, OOC-ness, and an over-dramatic story. Enjoy~

…_._

_The Happy Days the Await Us, _by AliceUnknown

…_._

Maka blamed herself for all of this.

It was _her_ fault that they had been captured. She'd let her guard down. She'd been too careless. She was certain all the witches had evacuated the site, and would never even think that, in fact, several of them were still hiding amongst the rubble of what used to be a hideout for anti-Shibusen witches. It had been searched thoroughly by Shibusen Squad members weeks ago. They were simply there to make absolutely sure that there weren't any witches left, and to search for any suspicious activity.

In Shinigami-sama's defense, _no one _would have expected that the witches secretly had an underground segment of the hideout that they were using.

So where did that leave them?

Captured.

Not only captured, but trapped in a heavily locked (by magic, of course), prison-like, tiny chamber- consisting of two chairs for them each to sit in while they ponder their gruesome decision, a table upon which rested the fatal vile of liquid, and an eerie dripping sound that notified the two it was raining outside. Maka supposed this moment wouldn't be complete without an overcast sky. A bright, cerulean one would just mock them.

How long had they been sitting in this cell? Maka asked herself this, only for her mind to unveil nothing. She assumed 10 hours of the worst, most painful silence had already passed. Though it seemed like so much longer.

Soul probably knew. He hadn't been stripped of his "cool" new watch Maka had gifted him for Christmas. Actually, they hadn't been stripped of anything, save for Maka's rucksack she carried on missions that would possibly require them to bring back mysterious artifacts. It had both of their cell phones in it, and anyway, they probably wouldn't have gotten good reception underground.

Now that she thought about it, Christmas was such a long ways away. Only about four months ago, but so, so far away. It wasn't even as much the season that seemed to fade into happier times than the happiness itself. They had been surrounded by smiles, smiles, everywhere they went...

It wasn't like they hadn't tried to escape already. But the bars that sealed them inside the hell room were impenetrable, and Soul Resonance was impossible with all the horrible incantations surrounding them.

….

"_Now here's the deal," a smirking witch spoke to them, warts dotted all over her face, once the team of about six fairly-advanced witches successfully had them tied up and securely thrown into the cell. "Don't even think about your little Shibusen friends coming to save you. A Grigori soul and a Deathscythe, though, eh? What nice luck~!" She licked her lips, and the rest of the witches cackled in unison. _

"_On the table behind you rests one vile of poison. We're gonna let you guys off easy and let you choose who watches who die from it. Any efforts to smash and break it are useless, as that glass is indestructible, and automatically refills if it's been emptied without having been drank from. One of you will drink it, and the other will watch, and then, we'll kill whoever is still alive. Simple, no? And if, by the time we return, you both are still alive, prepare to fight us..." She giggled, "Well, we have an excellent torture chamber that hasn't been in use in just so long~ One of you will indulge in hearing the other's' tortured screams. Who knows? Maybe we'll pierce you're eyes out, or hang you by your legs until they're dislocated, hmm? Heehee~! Be lucky that I feel in kind spirits today. Though you two look like you think you'll be able to take us on, so who knows~?_

"_Oh, and," she continued. "Don't even try your little Soul Resonance. Our magic may be at it's strongest here, but things like that are a strict no-no! It's not possible down here. Too enchanted. Sorry~" The witch pouted, then smirked. "You have twelve hours." She walked away and up a set of stairs that lead to fresh daylight, her followers right after her, leaving Soul and Maka to gather their thoughts alone._

….

"Maka..."

Maka always knew he would be the one to start. Because frankly, she wasn't strong enough to, and also because he had forcibly shown her before that he'd always be the one to die for her. The one to die first.

"No." She didn't hesitate. Nor did she need to know what he was about to say. She knew. She had known as soon as they had been shoved into the cold, damp cell, he'd be the one to insist upon it. And she also knew he wouldn't back down so easily. Well, neither would she.

"Maka, we-"

"No, Soul. Absolutely not." She couldn't meet his eyes. It was all she could do just to stare at her own feet. "We will just have to wait for Shibusen forces to come. That's all."

"Maka, I think we both know Shibusen won't make it on time."

"Soul," she gritted her teeth and clenched her gloved hands that had been frozen on her thighs into fists. "Don't say that. They will. You know that-"

"Maka," Soul said, a slight edge of annoyance developing in his tone at her stubbornness.

"No, Soul. No. No no no no no. It's not happening." For some reason, she was getting a sharp headache. Her eyebrows dropped into a firm V when Soul didn't give it a rest.

Soul heaved a sigh that seemed much too aged for him. "We both know how this is going to go."

"No, we don't!" She raised her voice, yet still couldn't move her head. "We just have to wait for Shibusen! We don't have to do anything rash."

"You've been saying that for the past-" Soul half-glanced at the watch on his wrist, "-almost eleven hours. They're not gonna come in an hour."

"Shut up, Soul! Just...shut up!" She felt the tears coming on, stinging the very tips of her eyes.

Soul slumped back in the uncomfortable, mediocre wooden chair. "Look, it's not...I just think that it'd be better if you lived instead of me-"

Her whole body was jolted out of her seat. In a rush of anxiety-filled adrenaline, she smacked him across the face before he could even blink, his face whipped to the side, and a not-so-subtle red mark appearing on his cheek. "DON'T YOU EVEN DARE!" she screamed, over the edge. She wasn't suited to handle things in a calm manner. She'd always been the fighter. "DON'T PUT YOURSELF SO LOW! DON'T JUST DIE SO EASILY!"

Soul remained frozen in place, not even twitching from the position she had slapped him into. She always had to take things to extremes. Or maybe she just liked physically abusing him- it wouldn't be too impossible considering how many Maka-chops he used to receive on a daily basis. Maybe she was the sadistic type. He calmly began, "I'm not putting myself so low. I'm a deathscythe after all, aren't I? I'm a bigger threat to them right now than you are."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE SOUL," Maka continued, furious. "WE BOTH KNOW THEY'RE AFTER ME! THEY _KNOW_ I HAVE A GRIGORI SOUL! THEY _KNOW_ HOW DANGEROUS I AM TO THEM!" It was horribly humiliating, and she somehow felt like it wasn't helping her case, but she couldn't deny the hot, burning tears that'd been collecting in her eyes the right to fall.

"And I'm not dying so easily," he continued, as if she said nothing. "A weapon is-"

"-supposed to die for their meister. Haven't heard THAT one before!" Maka lowered her volume, but she still spat the words out in anger. "Yeah, well, guess what. You've already put yourself in this position too many times! I won't allow you to kill yourself this time! I _will_ stop you!"

"Don't you understand, Maka? It HAS to be me!" his voice was steadily raising to defy her. She was so stupid sometimes. It wasn't even that she couldn't see why he had to be the one to die to get out of this situation. He would be able to transform into a scythe right before he died, and she'd make her escape that way. She'd never had to take on a group of so many at one time, single-handedly, but he had to have faith in her. Not that he planned on dying anyway. He was just getting a little caught up in the argument. "You ARE the one with the Grigori soul! YOU'RE the one who can defeat kishins and witches, and YOU'RE the one who can help save the world and do something important! It'd be too selfish to let myself live and you die, not only because I'd put myself above you, but I'd be putting myself above the world!" Okay, _really_ caught up. He admitted it.

Maka scoffed. "You make me sound like I'm some kind of superhero, Soul. Then tell me, what does that make you? You're the youngest deathscythe in history! You're pretty much at the point where you can fight alone! YOU don't need a partner, and I'm helpless alone!"

"You don't understand, Maka," Soul continued. "It's not just that."

At her inquisitive yet furious stare, he stated, "I'd be perfectly happy dying right now. Dying to protect someone I care about. There's really no better way for me to go."

She simply stared at him for a moment. She didn't know why what he was saying made the blood rush gently to her cheeks. She stuttered, "W-What? What the hell are you talking about, Soul?"

He rearranged himself so that he was sitting in a more comfortable position as Maka leered over him, expecting an answer. _Well, cool guy gives horribly uncool speech, take one. _Soul breathed a saddening, melancholic sigh before opening his mouth to begin.

"Maka, before I met you and came to Shibusen, I hated my life. I hated everything about it. I hated my parents, and I hated my brother for always upstaging me, and I hated everyone around me who would always compare me to Wes. The only solace I could find was in playing piano, and even that turned into a nightmarish hell. I went through every day of my life looking for something worth living for.

"And then I found it. I found it when I figured out I was a weapon, and that there was a place I could go to for people like me. I found it when I was looking up at Shibusen from the bottom of those fucking stairs of hell. But mostly, I found it in you, and with everyone I've been able to meet and be friends with. I was happier at Shibusen then I'd been in years." He smiled. It was such a warm, comfortable smile, that was so rare of him. "I may have not looked like it all the time, but I was so happy. Even if we got into fights sometimes with each other, even when I failed that goddamn written assignment and had to retake the whole test, and even when I took that blow from the Demon Sword."

It was true, though. Every word. He wasn't going to make this his death speech or anything, though. Soul was practical. He knew there was a way out of this, without putting Maka or himself in danger. "So Maka, if you'd please, please, just let me drink the poison for you," He looked her directly in the eyes, and for the first time, Maka was able to see so much emotion that he'd usually hid behind an emotionless veil, "It'd make me the happiest person in the world."

….

It was five minutes after that, that Soul had come up with Plan A. It was risky, but if he still couldn't escape in an hour, he'd use it. But not say it now, because Maka would freak.

….

It wasn't like they had just sat there those eleven hours. They truly tried everything, starting with breaking the bars down. Maka kicked and banged and throttled them, all the while letting frustrated screeches rip through her throat. Soul decided upon the practical approach of transforming his left arm into the razor sharp blade of a scythe. He too couldn't help but to groan a bit in the process. He must've hit the bars at least a dozen and twenty times before realizing that his efforts were for nothing. Though the steel appeared rusted and worn down, which lead Soul to ask himself how the hell many people had been in this situation before.

Hoping that the leverage would help to set them both free, Soul transformed completely into his scythe form, and Maka grasped the shaft as if the world depended on it. And it sort of did- THEIR worlds, at least. She desperately swung the blade down in swift yet deadly swings down onto the steel bars. When not even the subtlest hint of a scratch showed itself, she tried another approach. Hastily, she turned Soul vertically and slipped his blade through the slots in between the bars. Then turned him back to a horizontal position before she proceeded to thrust it as hard as she could in her direction. Nevertheless, the bars showed no sign of even the smallest injuries, and from the sounds Soul was making, he was the one taking all the damage.

She pulled Soul back inside the horrible cell, where he transformed back into his human form with a glow of light.

Soul blinked for a moment at the outside of the cell, then back to Maka, and to his arm, which had been in it's weapon form just a moment before. "Wait a second...h-hey, Maka! I think I've got an-"

"It's no use."

She slumped down to the floor, stray hairs misaligned from her typically precise and neat pigtails. "It's no use. We...we can't get out! The magic in the cell is way too strong. Nothing we can do will break it. We're..." She didn't bother to finish her own sentence.

"Huh?" Soul asked, wondering how the fuck she hadn't figured it out yet. _SHE was the goddamn brains!_ "Maka, we don't need to break the bars! I can-"

She mumbled something incoherent. But Soul figured he still had about a half an hour till those witches would come to hear their decision, so what the fuck? "What was that?"

"I'm really sorry, Soul. So, so sorry. About everything."

It was all Soul could do to blink his eyes once and continue to stare at her with an astonished expression. Maka was APOLOGIZING? To HIM? For what? She had no reason to apologize for any of this! The one time she decides to be the one to give an apology, and it's for absolutely nothing. He couldn't help but to shake his head and smirk. What the hell was wrong with her?

"Maka," he began, "You have nothing to apologize for. It was an _ambush._ No one in their right mind would have expected there to be a whole underground-"

"No. Not for that."

Soul became quizzical. "Huh? Then for what? What do you mean?"

"For..." She rested her chin on her knees, and looked out beyond those bars into the vast abyss of what appeared to be absolutely nothing. "Just...for everything. I'm sorry I've always ben so temperamental-"

"_That's_ the freakin' understatement of the century-"

"-And for always picking fights with you," she continued, ignoring his lighthearted tease. "And for yelling at you and being annoying and being a nag and always pestering you about school and chores, and...everything. I'm sorry."

Two roads were currently being diverged. The first consisted of the reasonable solution of getting the hell out of there right now and disclosing to Maka their plan of escape. Buuuut, the other one winded into a blissful yellow wood, and they still had time, so Soul decided to savor the moment and follow through with Plan A. Though, at the end of the day, it might actually work out better for the both of them, he thought. And okay, he really wanted to milk it.

Step one, he plastered a wide smirk on his face, looking down a poor, poor Maka, who had no idea of the plan developing in Soul's mind. "Do go on. I _implore_ you."

Maka looked up at him, curious as to why he suddenly changed tones, but also the teensiest bit ticked off at him. "Shut up. I'm being serious."

"And I am, too! If I'm going to die, then I'd rather hear all the apologies my brain can handle!"

Maka was on the verge of tears just at those few words. Pissed-off, angry tears, but still tears, and Soul was mentally kicking himself in the ass for making a girl cry. "Shut UP, Soul! This isn't funny!"

He dropped the sarcastic smile, but kept the playful tone. "No? Well then..." He made his way over to the table, which held the small vile of poison. "Maybe I should just get this over with now, then." He stretched his hand over to the vile-

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Maka screamed, pulling him by his other arm, trying to force him away from the table. "DON'T even THINK about it!"

Truthfully, he was in love with her. Head-over-effing-heels. He had been for a while, but only began noticing it pretty recently. He couldn't exactly place a finger as to where and when it started, but the point was, he loved her so much to the point of thinking about her touching her lips to that lethal vile of poisonous liquids made him want to throw up.

And she was going to _murder him_ and absolutely_ crush him into a fine powder_ after all this was over, but really, he'd been thinking for a long time how to break out of this cycle. This awkward partnership that was strictly just THAT- a partnership. A really great friendship, at best. But he had been picking up the very subtle hints from her for a while now, so maybe this was in everyone's best interest.

He had already grabbed a hold of it before Maka came into contact with his arm, and he had it hoisted up above her reach. Thank Shinigami his growth spurt left him a full head taller than her. His smirk had returned to his face when he teased, "Hm? Don't drink it? I don't know if I can do that..."

"PLEASE, SOUL!" She was full-fledged crying, now, there was no denying that. Tears flowed down her face like a rushing stream, and he, again, got the feeling he was an incredible dick for this. "PLEASE I'LL DO ANYTHING! JUST, PLEASE, PUT THE-"

"Anything?"

But then he had to remind himself that _this was in everybody's interest_, and the thought that there wouldn't have to be anymore pretending between them was such a relief. He wouldn't have to keep pretending that the only reason he'd die for her is because he's her partner. He wouldn't have to keep pretending that he didn't love her _like that_, and that he wouldn't be perfectly content living in their small little apartment together for the rest of their lives, waking up to the smell of Maka making fresh pancakes with whipped cream and the sound of her loudly humming to some stupid techno song when she thought he was still asleep, and falling asleep on the couch together after especially long days of missions. After this, maybe he wouldn't have to keep pretending that she was his partner and meister and best friend, instead of the stubborn, obnoxious, pig-tailed girl he was in love with.

_Cool guys don't fall for flat-chested girls._

He laughed inside as he vaguely remembered himself saying that all those years ago. He definitely wasn't the same person. Even then, though he had been already living with Maka for some time, he always had that wall up. That "cool" wall that he thought would protect him from anyone ever rejecting him again. As could be predicted, he had his moments where he slipped, but that didn't seem to make Maka mind at all. In fact, she seemed to like the real Soul better. She smiled more around him then.

Now, she was staring up at him in confusion, arm still outstretched for the vile. "Eh? Y-Yeah, anything..." She looked less sure of herself now. She probably had no idea where this was going. Actually, on second thought, Soul thought to himself, some part of her probably knew exactly where this was going, and that's why she didn't ask what he meant.

Time really was beginning to tick, and keeping this in mind, Soul contemplated what would happen if this didn't work. In that case, he'd be leaving Maka all alone against a clan of very cunning and powerful witches, without a weapon. But he had to have faith in the plan. Somewhere inside of him, he knew it would work, and then nothing but endlessly blissful days would await them for the rest of their lives- and they _would_ be able to spend day in and day out with each other in peace. Well, peace, aside from the occasional killing of monsters and witches and such.

But still. His plan wasn't infallible. There was always that possibility that this would be the last time he would ever see her again, and so he began to analyze her face. He looked at her stupid, messy hair that was always in those stupid pigtails that he'd, for some insane reason, come to love. He actually preferred them for her. They were just so Maka, so he loved them. And her pale face as tinted a hue pink from him staring at her so intently (which, admittedly, was a big perk for him. Maka was never one to blush, so seeing it now in these possible last moments was a reward of it's own). Her thin lips were pulled into a confused frown, but that was okay, because he had so many memories of those lips pulled into a bright smile.

It would only be absolutely logical to save those eyes for last. Those big, emerald orbs that were reflecting his own gaze. But he could care less about himself now, so he looked past his reflection, past the inquisitive and slightly uncomfortable tint to them, until there was nothing more to them than an endless sea of green. Even in this dim lighting, he felt like they could take him to a peaceful meadow that existed in a very far away place.

He combined all these images and segments together to create a perfect Maka.

"S-Soul? Are you okay?"

"Maka..." He hadn't even recognized how much longing was straining his voice and how much it appeared on his face. All he could think about was Maka, and the endless days with Maka that awaited him...

"I love you." And he took her fragile face in his rough hands and thrust his face down for his lips to finally meet hers.

….

It actually didn't feel that strange at all. Not in the least.

It wasn't like she had ever kissed anyone before, so she had no idea what to expect. But actually, although the majority of her mind was still trying to register what was going on, a small fragment was being pumped with adrenaline of the best kind. The kind where it feels like you've been waiting for someone for multiple lifetimes, and you didn't even know it.

Truthfully, with absolutely anyone else, it would be awkward. She was an over-thinker by nature, and it would have only been natural to over-think about the legendary First Kiss. Though really, maybe it wasn't the fact that it was _Soul_ so much as the fact that she had no time to over-think anything. Time was almost up. And she hadn't even known how much she wanted him until it was happening. She tried to stop crying, because it was already getting harder to breathe, and the taste of salty tears wasn't the most romantic one, in her opinion.

Though to Soul, he was pretty much sucking and licking every tear that fell on her mouth right off. And his breath was warm and his lips felt nice, like they belonged with hers, so fuck if it was overly-romantic or not romantic at all.

The only thing spoiling this moment was her. Her brain couldn't stop reminding her that this was it. This would be the only time ever that she'd ever feel his warm presence with her like this again. The thought produced more tears in her eyes that dripped and fell down her face as if it was some kind of race, but Soul lightly kissed and licked them away, even if they were only to be replaced by new tears.

She was no fool. She knew this changed nothing. He would still part from her within a half hour, and he'd have drunk the poison regardless of whether or not there was any kiss. If anything, this only furthered her reasoning that he would stop at nothing to take the fall for her. Savoring the moment was hard when there was no escaping the fact that it was the _only_ moment.

She had never been one to think about falling in love- after all, she was _Maka Albarn_ for Shinigami's sake- so she never thought about her feelings for Soul. Somewhere along the line, she'd figured out that the feelings she'd refused to linger on were NOT what a meister would typically feel for a weapon, neither were they emotions one would feel for their best friend. She wasn't as naïve as most people claimed her to be. She knew when she was in love. So it wasn't as if she had been ignorant to these feelings before and refused to believe she was in love with Soul. She'd just rather not have dwelled on them, and instead, brushed them away with nonchalance.

And now, he was kissing her with such a ferocious passion and it was _exhilarating,_ and she had no time to be thinking the way she would have been if she weren't in such a predicament- as in, wondering if he'd leave her like her papa left her mama, considering what this meant for their partnership, and so on. Maka was usually the type of person to take all of these things into consideration, but right now, there was only this one moment, so she decided to fuck everything else. There'd never be a day from here on out for him to do anything, much less leave her. And there wouldn't be a partnership for much longer.

Maka could feel him pulling away, but she closed the small space once again, because what was probably a full fifteen second kiss felt much more like two seconds. And she'd rather distract him for another twenty five minutes and _not_ give him the opportunity to leave early on her. "...M-Maka," he mumbled into her mouth, and she couldn't help but to feel overwhelmingly sad once he said her name. He sounded almost pained. He was probably thinking the same thing as she, cursing the time and how quickly it went. She was definitely not a romantic in any way, but she was beginning to understand the feeling of wanting to kiss and take away someone's pain. Much like Soul, when he had carefully done so to her tears.

At her refusal to part, Soul gained more vigor and forced his mouth back onto hers as if nothing had happened. If sorrow had a taste, then Soul was really depressed right now, Maka figured.

Screw nonchalance, she loved him. She was desperately in love with him, and it was really ripping her apart. She couldn't stop herself from being engulfed in the very thought of loving him. In fact, the words "love" and "Soul" were currently mixed together in a hazy and jumbled mess in her brain.

….

Soul had never been poetic, but the prose line of _"Parting is such sweet sorrow" _somehow found its way into his consciousness. He stayed strong in his mind, though. He had to believe this wouldn't be the last time...

….

Everything after that then proceeded in the same way it would have when one is dreaming. Or when one is recalling a dream. It was all so fast, and Maka was completely powerless to do anything but watch it all unfold; Soul giving a faint kiss on her forehead before walking over to the table, bending down, and picking up the potion. She vaguely remembered the warm feeling of something trickling down her cheeks, and vividly remembered the look he gave her before touching the deadly vile to his mouth, and tipping the contents in. It was a really emotional look. Something that was hard to define. There were flecks of longing and craving in them when he stared at her, and a whole lot of sadness. But there was also some sort of hope. She knew he was trying to reassure her in some way, but dammit, their soul link wasn't so strong that she could decipher what exactly he was trying to tell her then.

Maka also remembered a raw feeling building in her throat. She was probably screaming. She may or may not have been mouthing that she loved him too, but for some odd reason, she couldn't hear a thing.

….

When the witches returned to the chamber that held their prisoners, they saw Soul lying down on the ground, motionless, Maka slumped over him, and a shattered, empty glass tube in pieces on the cement floor. They could only see Maka's back from their position, and not her tear-stained cheeks that had turned pale, nor her swollen eyes that contrasted with those cheeks.

"Hmm..." the clan-leader mused. "Can't say I didn't see it coming."

Maka couldn't find the strength to move, or to face them. She couldn't find the will to remove her arms from his body or her head from his chest. He was still a little warm. Thank god.

"Heehee~! Come, little girl. Let's take your little friend away." The witches cackled lightly, in unison. One of the grunts fumbled with the keys and unlocked the giant, worn out lock until it clicked into place. The cell door opened with an obnoxious creak.

She understood now. Maybe it was that last minute wink he threw her before slumping over that triggered the response in her brain. He had too much faith in her. What if she'd never figured it out? Then where would they be? She assumed that he'd planned on her brain coming through, though. It was getting really hard to tell who was the brains and who was the brawn in the relationship, as of late. Late being the past two or three years of their partnership.

Maka still didn't move, and the witches were getting impatient. The head witched scoffed. "Young love. How revolting."

The other witches all filed into the cell to remove Maka from Soul's corpse, while the head witch headed back out of the chamber and smirked. "Heh. Reminds me of when I was young." Except technically, she had never thrown herself over anyone's dead body out of love, but rather to indulge in their souls. She still figured she had an idea how that blonde girl felt. She made her way up the stairs...

...But never really made it. Within a second's time, The body containing her evil soul vanished in a dark light, leaving behind a glowing scarlet orb.

"Geez, Soul," came a mutter. "Way to freak me out like that."

"Ah, sorry, Maka. Did I worry you?" A flash of light, and the scythe that had hung over her shoulder took it's human form. It's _smirking_ human form.

Maka huffed, facing away from him with her arms crossed. "Y'know, you could've told me your plan."

He laughed. "I could've..." He swiftly took her chin from behind and tilted it 'till her face was an inch from his. "But then it wouldn't have been as interesting."

"Eh-?" A deep blush suddenly spread over her pale face, and her brows furrowed down in aggravation. "W-What are you-?"

"That was some kiss, huh? Might not've gotten away with it if you had already figured out I was immune to the poison," he mused.

She pushed away from him. "SO YOU DIDN'T JUST TELL ME WHAT YOUR PLAN WAS BECAUSE YOU WANTED ME TO BE, WHAT, LIKE, YOUR LITTLE DAMSEL IN DISTRESS?" The blush was now red with embarrassment _and_ anger.

"Hmm," he retorted. "Well, it was interesting seeing how afraid you were that I was gonna die-"

"MAKA-CHOP!" She had recently acquired the skill and strength in her hand to make the chop just as effective without a book. Something Soul was not too appreciative of. "SOUL, YOU IDIOT!"

The chop wasn't nearly enough to force him on the ground anymore, though. Instead, he stumbled into her, and she back-stepped into a stone wall. He clumsily fell against her, head resting on her shoulder now. "S-Soul!" Maka turned a shade deeper- a near impossible task, but then again, nothing was impossible for the great Maka Albarn. "W-Wh-What are y-you-"

She noticed his heavy panting in her ear then. And how his forehead seemed to burn against her neck. "Soul? Are you o-"

"I'm...fine..." The words were whispered between heavy breaths. Maka didn't have time to think about how his breath on her neck was tingling all of her nerves there, or how the heat was somehow attracting her to him, because god damn, he was running a fever. Apparently, he still had side affects from the poison, even after all the training he received from Shibusen to prevent things like this. Things like being poisoned by witches. Because actually, it was a very common practice done by witches to kill unsuspecting humans, and they wouldn't even have to relinquish their Soul Protect in the process. Really, the only way to protect from being poisoned, though, was to build an immunity to it, meaning that, over the course of two years, every week, he had to ingest more and more poison.

This particular brew, however, was much stronger than those made by the typical witches. Probably because they had an entire team of witches contributing to making it as lethal as possible. The result of this was a high fever, even if Soul _wasn't_ going to die.

Maka slumped down the stone wall until she was sitting against it, with Soul in tow. "You..." Maka began. "You...really are, such an idiot." She was gentle now with her tone, considering how possible it was that Soul would faint any moment. She brought her hand to his forehead. "You have a horrible fever, but I don't think you're gonna die. You've had worse." For example, the first few weeks he began training his immune system. She wanted to personally walk those steps up to Shibusen and kick whoever's ass was making her stay home from school for two days to watch over a poisoned Soul. "You'll be fine. Just stay in bed for a while."

He didn't respond, but said, "It's...alright. I'm actually starting to feel a...little better right now. Not a whole hell of a lot, but..."

She giggled. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. Couldn't you have done something else besides ingest _poison_?"

"Yeah, actually," he laughed (though it came out more like a wheeze). "And I'm surprised you hadn't noticed it earlier..."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

He smiled, anticipating her reaction. "Remember when we tried getting out of the cell by using my scythe form? And You had slipped me outside those cell bars to try and break it off from the outside?"

"..."

He waited.

"..."

"..."

"OH MY FREKING GOD, ARE YOU SERIOUS? HOW THE FUCK DID I NOT SEE THAT? _**HOW COULD I HAVE POSSIBLY MISSED THAT,**__ ARGGHH, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?"_

Soul couldn't help but to erupt into (weak) laughter. "I know. I could've escaped and surprise attacked those witches, or gone to have gotten help. I mean, really, they didn't even check up on us in those whole twelve hours..."

Maka was still mentally- and physically- berating herself for overlooking such an obvious solution. "SO WHAT YOU'RE SAYING IS, we could've gotten out of here TWELVE HOURS AGO? SERIOUSLY?" She moaned. "Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot!"

"...Yeah, you must not be as smart as we all thought."

Maka let out a whale of a sigh. "Well, this sucks. Now, you're poisoned because of me! You could've died! You should have pointed that out to me sooner-"

"Actually," Soul cut in, "I'm really glad I didn't." She looked down at him as if he had a third head. "It's just," he continued, answering her unasked question. "Well, I was just so sick of pretending all the time...with you..."

"What are you talking about?" She asked, regaining a pink touch to her cheeks because she knew exactly what he was talking about.

Soul breathed out steadily, still fighting off the effects of the potion. "I was sick of pretending that I didn't love you. I'd rather be slightly poisoned now and have that go away, and finally not have to pretend anymore, then go back to how we had always been. In the same damn circle, day in and day out." He tried to pick himself up a bit more to face her in the eyes, but in vain. "Maka, I really do...I mean, I love you..." he mumbled. Thank the good lord his fever was running high, or else the redness in his cheeks would be very palpable to his meister.

She rested her head against the top of his. "Yeah...I know what you mean, I guess. About having to pretend all the time. I really do, too, Soul..."

"..." This time, he really _did_ pick his head up to look her in the eyes, a devious glint in his. "Sorry. You what?"

"I..." she took a good long stare at her knees. "I...I l...lu...lurv..." she mumbled incoherently.

"Ah, I think my hearing must be going. Couldn't quite catch that," he smiled evilly. "You-"

She leaned her forehead against his chest. "I'm in love with you. Happy?"

That was probably the worst place for her to rest her forehead, since his heart just kinda lurched at that. He hoped she didn't feel that. "Yeah, I am..."

Maka slowly brought her head back up and looked at his eyes. "Me too." She looked as if she had just lost something. Her dignity, her pride, or maybe she just broke the promise she'd been keeping to herself all this time to never fall in love, and now that she said it, she was lost and confused and didn't know what to do. But maybe not. What did he know, after all?

There's something about catching the eyes of a person you're in love with that causes the tendency to lean forward and make your lips brush against their's to be set into motion. For Soul and Maka, the first part happened, and Maka leaned forward until their foreheads connected, heat being exchanged between them. She could hear his pants, softer now, and his breath brushing against her cheek, and he could feel her lashes flutter against him. Before anything further could happen, he cupped her cheek with one hand, while the other one propped him up, and faintly murmured, "No. We can't. The poison is still lingering in my mouth."

She understood. Instead of closing the gap, she brought her face up to his forehead and softly kissed it, pushing his spiked hair up to do so with her gentle hands. Her mouth felt cool against his scorching head, and he vaguely wished she would kiss him all over before passing out...

….

_He didn't faint, though. The effects of the poison lulled him into a deep sleep, in which his body would try to heal itself._

_He had a small dream within this time._

_It wasn't too vivid, but he heard a soft music playing in the background- a tinkling noise, like one would hear from a music box- and Maka was there, and she was looking up at him, and giggling, and laughing, and smiling. And he felt himself smiling back at her. There didn't seem to be a real tangible reason to the smiling and laughing, but he knew he had reached those happier times, and it rocked him comfortably, like the quiet and calming waves that rocked a sailboat, drifting over a spacious sea, and the sky was streaked with effervescent hues of colors..._

…_._

A/N: It's so fluffy. *barfs* so, so fluffy. And so OOC as well. *HEADDESK* (=_=;;;)

A PART TWO IN WHICH SOUL IS BEDSICK AND MAKA HAS TO TAKE CARE OF HIM NOW, HMMM? Not like there aren't already 137 of those on FanFiction

There was probably, I don't know, five or six other ways to get out of the cell. Both the witches and I, AND Soul/Maka weren't smart enough to figure it out, though. Here's what I came up with;

1- Soul transforms into a scythe blade, slips out from the cell, and sneaks around to find the key to get Maka out, and then they take on the witches -slash- escape when the witches aren't looking. Very classy.

2- Maka has to use the bathroom- wait, no, that wouldn't work.

3- Soul and Maka really DO wait around until 12 hours, and take on the witches. But really, with them backed into a cell like that...

4- Maka and Soul proceed into a catchy and ostentatious musical number to the song _I Feel Pretty, _or even possibly _The Sound of Music_, in which Soul sings a kick-ass soprano_. _Obviously, witches can't survive in happy and musical conditions, so they melt. Like in The Wizard of Oz. Like that.

5- They dig a tunnel out. Except they're already underground.

Or 6- Soul drinks the poison because hurr hurr, he can't die, cause Shinigami-sama's like, Oh Hey, Soouull-kun~! We're gonna have you drink some poison little by little, because, you know, just in case. K thnx bye~!

If there was anything I left out, please tell me. I really was having a VERY hard debate between numbers four and six :\

Please please please please please please please PLEASE review! It would help my self esteem! \:D ?


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